


Studious Hermione

by cantbehulk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Monsters, Orcs, Other, Rough Sex, Sex, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:57:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantbehulk/pseuds/cantbehulk
Summary: Hermione stumbles upon a book of spells that may satisfy more than her thirst for knowledge.





	Studious Hermione

It was years ago, as a 2nd year student, when Hermione first gained access to the restricted section of the library at Hogwarts. It was, of course, to help Harry brew up some Polyjuice potion. Now however she had full access and could come and go as she pleased. It took some time but even the suspicious Madam Pince didn’t even glance up when Hermione would ask to venture in.

And it was only months ago, while she was passing time glancing at the ancient bindings and taking in the smell of ageing book glue, when she noticed a particularly small edition. Entitled “How to Control the Monster and Get Him Inside You,” it was certainly strange enough to catch her eye. She waved her wand, muttering a revealing spell, and cracked the spine. There were no defensive curses, just a plain book, written in regular ink. Two pages in was the table of contents and they read as follows:

**Chapter 1** :  _Preparing Your Space for a Summon_  
 **Chapter 2** :  _Preparing Yourself for a Monster_  
 **Chapter 3** :  _Safety, Your Monster, and You_  
 **Chapter 4** :  _Intercourse, Your Monster, and You_

Hermione turned deep red. What exactly had she found? She snapped the book closed, placed it back on the shelf, paused, then wandered away telling herself to forget all about what she just saw. Two or three shelves down, she turned on a dime and, in a huff, pulled the book back off the shelf, planted herself down, and read. Surely this book contained some secret the contents wouldn’t betray, surely this book had some underlying value, surely this book wasn’t about sex.

Page by page the book didn’t dance around its subject. Chapter one described finding a quiet, comfortable setting where the summoner could freely enjoy themselves. Chapter two was about envisioning the right monster to summon, one that could fulfil anyone’s deep fantasies. Chapter three about controlling the monster, or an even more thrilling thought, letting the monster control you. And Chapter 4 went into deep details about instructing the monster to do exactly what you desired. When she was finished with the book Hermione sat in bewilderment. No book, and almost no teacher, openly discussed using magic for sexual desire. Hogwarts wanted students to focus on magic as a tool or ally for good and knowledge, it didn’t want students viewing it as dirty. And yet here sat a book that, in detail, described how any wizard, with enough skill, could fulfill their needs.

In another huff Hermione placed the book back, and stormed off to her dorms. A quick hello to Harry and Ron and she was in her bed, hand between her thighs, the wet and urgent urges between her legs. Her mind went blank, her fingers slid inside of her, and she fantasized about the monster of her dreams. He was an orc, muscle bound and thick. His skin was gray, he barely wore clothes, and almost always when she thought of him he was fully erect. Even after hours of terrible deeds she could think of the orc was always hard and willing. It thrilled her to think some monstrous being, who could take whatever it wanted, wanted bookworm Hermione so badly he never softened.  
She woke up with a start. She had fallen asleep in her clothes, hand still between her legs, panties pulled aside. She got clean, got dressed, and quickly met up with Ron and Harry downstairs and was off to class. Her studies were a wonderful distraction as always. She poured herself into every class, every subject, every book, and every note. It wasn’t just an escape from the realities of the harsh world around her but also the ever present thought of that book in that library that could, pretty easily, provide her with what she wanted. Thankfully Ron and Harry weren’t as dutiful as her in their studies and required extra studious attention after dinner and she could, once again, hide away in her books.

Days went by and it seemed like she’d forget all about that small book in the hidden part of the library. She even studied in the library and her thoughts strayed to her orc and that book only a few times.

Nearly two weeks after her discovery, it all flooded back to her. Hermione was sitting in class when, in the normal course of the day’s lesson, orcs came up. Orcs, of course, didn’t exist. They were a creation of goblins who wanted to instill fear into wizards in hopes of furthering their rebellions centuries ago. Now orcs were no more than fairy tales and jokes. Yet somehow orcs were now a topic of discussion in her Muggle Studies class of all things. The mere mention of the term sent her brain back to the dark, restricted, section of the library, and back thumbing through the pages. Except now it wasn’t a memory. She was clearly topless, her skirt was torn half off, and her wand was flipping through pages while she fingered herself ruthlessly.

She didn’t notice class had ended. She didn’t follow her usual routine to go eat with Harry and Ron. She didn’t realize she was walking by Madam Pince with a courteous wave. Reality only snapped back into place as she slid back onto the floor with this book in her arms. She held it like a child. Now she understood what she had to do. Some time soon she needed to find a hidden place where she could conduct experiments using this book. She wasn’t sure how far she would go, but it was certain her day to day life wasn’t going to be the same until she did.

Hermione couldn’t check the book out. Madam Pince might not bat an eye but someone would certainly notice. So she began to copy down, word for word, every page of the book. Not only would this keep her secret safe, but she’d have an intense opportunity to study the spells she needed to cast. Line by line and word by word her mind drank in the information. She imagined vividly the numerous ways she wanted to be ravaged. Not just fucked, but taken apart. Words began filtering into her mind as she copied along. Spread, ripped, torn, thrust, pound, stretched, beaten, lashed, strain. When she was finished it was well past curfew. She placed the book back on the shelf and shuffled off to her dorm leaving a large patch of wetness on the restricted section floor.

It took another month before Hermione had found a quiet, safe place to cast her spells. She asked several teachers and to placate her scholastic demands they found her an unused classroom miles away from any of the dormitories. She used it during the day, pretending to intensely study, and even had to endure Professor McGonagall’s visits from time to time. Finally, one night, she ventured out and just sat in the empty room.

There was only one entrance, a large and heavy door that, thankfully, had one large and heavy latch. The walls were large stone and coated with dust. In one corner there was a stack of old desks, housing nothing but spiderwebs and the occasional forgotten notebook. Two large windows were filled with years of dirt and grime letting only faint light in even on the sunniest of days. Hermione sat on the floor, a blanket stretched out underneath her, with her secret notebook firmly shut. Tonight wasn’t the night. Her legs ached with urges she didn’t fully understand to just open the book and begin. However she knew better.

She began softly. Whispers. Common phrases, spells and enchantments, potion ingredients. She brought those up to a conversational speaking level. Looking around the room as she occasionally spoke. Her voice only slightly echoed, and it wasn’t reaching the hallway. Now for the real test. She let out a moan, one she had been holding in since the first night she ever spotted this book on its shelf. It was loud, sudden, and from deep within her. The very act made her much wetter and as soon as she was done she became intensely flushed. She sat listening for an echo, for footsteps, for anyone to find her out while sitting and staring intensely at her notebook. A small part of her said tonight. But she packed her things and went back to her dorm.

Weeks went by, her studies continued, and finally she knew she had her perfect chance. Hogwarts was having a festival. Most students would be attending a series of events and games out on the Hogwarts’ lawn. Hermione would be casting her spells.

She sat in her room pretending to be deep within another book. Her friends asked her her plans, but they knew a Hermione studying face when they saw one. Even Harry and Ron figured there was no hope of tearing her away from her books. When they were all gone she wrapped herself in her cloak and walked down stairs, along the many hallways, and into her room.

It sat as she left it. Dust covered, quiet, still. She laid out her blanket, unpacked her notebook, neatly placing her wand next to it, and took off her napsack. She laid out more blankets, stalling for time out fear and apprehension. If she was unable to properly cast the spell it could prove disastrous. Instead of summoning an orc intent on only fulfilling her unresolved desires and needs, she could unleash a hyper-sexual monster onto all of Hogwarts. And even that thought thrilled her to no end.

Hermione opened her notebook to begin, following the steps precisely as she had taken them down. A few swishes, and few flicks, the constant muttering of an intense spell. As she wove the magic into the air her surroundings changed. What was once a hard, dusty, old classroom filled with the scent of citrus. The room went from pitch black to just barely dim, and as her eyes adjusted she noticed a thick fog settling in. Deep in that fog something was concentrating.

She cast more spells, pausing only to glance at her notebook. Hermione dropped to her knees just to see the pages as the fog grew denser and denser. Then, finally, the last page of instructions had been gone through, and she stopped. The fog sat still, the smell of citrus now had hints of cinnamon and something else. It smelled like the boy’s dorm. A heavy smell consisting of sweat, musk, and just hints of semen that revolted her and turned on her intensely. Hermione was suddenly aware of her body. Her nipples had hardened and were pressing against her bra, her panties were practically dripping, and every article of clothing on her body suddenly weighed heavy on her.

Then she spotted it. Deep within the fog stood her orc, exactly as she imagined. He was maybe eight feet tall with a broad, muscular body. He was only wearing a comical looking loin cloth, but already had an impressive erection protruding out of it. As her eyes lingered on every piece of her creation she finally met its eyes. She felt a mixture of fear, intimidation, and arousal but in his eyes she only saw lust.

The orc clambered over on unsteady legs as it was still getting used to existing. Hermione couldn’t, or wouldn’t, react. Her mind went to that same place when she heard the word orc in class, or when she first read this book, or when she would press her fingers into herself and fantasize. The Hermione everyone knew was gone and in her place was a Hermione very few people would know. The orc moved with knowledge. A knowing hand placed here, a touch placed there, all designed to send thrills into Hermione’s body.

The orc stood in front of her, it’s large cock already dripping with pre-cum. Instinctively she reached out for it, letting her tongue explore her creation. The orc stared intently as she closed her eyes and let her body react. The monster’s cock seemed almost too big. Each lick surprised her with how long and thick his member could be. She could feel its blood pumping into the head everytime she placed her mouth onto him again, and again.

Time passed slowly, or quickly, she couldn’t be sure. Everything happened as it felt it needed to. The orc seemingly knew when to stop one activity and switch to the next with no hesitation or thought, it just acted. Now she was lifted up and standing as the orc’s large hands quickly ripped off her skirt and panties. Her button-down shirt was ripped and she stood before her orc in only a bra and cloak, shivering with excitement. The orc just stared. Briefly Hermione wondered how well she could protect herself, her wand was still in her hand. The orc however didn’t move for the wand, it knew she didn’t want or need protection. Hermione had created what she wanted and needed.

The orc turned her around, bending her over slightly at the waist. She felt its cock press on her, teasing her opening that was already so dripping wet she fear he would slip deep inside with the slightest push. And push the orc did, but never too deep. She felt the bulbous head spreading her open before retreating back. When she squirmed a firm pair of hands would grab her shoulder or arms, holding her in place, frozen. The orc teased her more and more, sliding his dick between her ass, reaching around to pull on her breasts, pinching her nipples very tightly, and then releasing her all at once.

Finally it happened. She wasn’t grabbed, she wasn’t pounded, she wasn’t suddenly surprised. Instead, with ease and softness, the orc very, very slowly entered her. The pleasure that poured into her and this mammoth cock filled her inch by inch was overwhelming. Her legs shuddered, her mouth spilled drool, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She felt the orc’s pre-cum flooding inside of her before even finding itself all the way in and she was in ecstasy. The orc was so gentle and kind it warmed her heart. Its cock just sat inside her, twitching and throbbing from the very feeling of her body. She felt loved and cared for in a way that fulfilled her soul.

Then just as her brain was beginning to come back to reality the orc snapped. She was now empty, standing in a dusty room that no longer smelled like citrus. The overwhelming spell of semen and sweat filled her nostrils. She nearly collapsed by the sudden change. Had her spell broken? Did she cast it wrong? Before she could even glance behind her she knew nothing was wrong. The orc grabbed her hip with one hand, lifted her leg with another, and held her like a toy to his chest. She felt the tip of his cock pressing against her pussy once again but she knew, deep inside, that was its intention.

He adjusted. Now the orc’s cock, already soaked with pre-cum and her own juices, was pressed eagerly on her tight ass. Hermione could only let out the tiniest of gasps. It was a fantasy she only allowed herself to envision once. Years ago, hidden away in the girl’s shower, she used a shampoo bottle on herself. After nearly being caught she vowed never to tried anal ever again, no matter the circumstance. Now she was about to have that dark fantasy realized in an all too real way.  

In every way the orc had been gentle to her pussy, it treated her ass oppositely. Where he had entered slowly, now was a rush as his large cock pushed deep into her. The feeling was of tightness, warmth, and filling desire to have more. She felt herself gush with every powerful and hard thrust the orc gave her. This was a pounding she could never have imagined and in every way it hurt she just wanted more. She was stretched further and further, and she found herself moaning loudly.

Over and over again the orc bounced her tiny body onto its large pulsing cock, letting gravity be the brutal lover she always wanted. For what could have been hours her ass was used roughly as she was pinned, face first, against the wall and floor. The orc’s hands and fingers slid their way into her mouth as she sucked and licked them desperately. Then they played with her nipples, pinching them raw. Then they penetrated her cunt, filling her up like a normal man’s cock could. She felt used and abused and loved every moment of it.

Time passed, she exhausted herself and just as she began to give into the idea that enough was enough, the orc twitched. Its rhythm was thrown off. The orc closed its eyes, slowly laid her down on the floor, flipped her upward, and slid back into her pussy. There it stopped, only for a second, before letting out its own moan and pumping what felt like an endless stream of cum into her. Hermione gasped and sighed deeply. The feeling of this monster’s cum pouring into her, never stopping, just giving her every drop was enough to send her reeling. She got lightheaded as waves of pleasure emanated upward from her crotch. She felt herself tighten each time the orc injected more cum into her, causing its cock to twitch and dumb even more in.

The orc stopped and collapsed onto her. Hermione reached out and stroked the monster’s large shoulders, gently kissing its neck. The orc gradually stood up, retreating to the fog filled corner, and dissolving. Hermione didn’t remember cleaning up, getting dressed, gathering her things, or heading back to her room. She woke up the next day and didn’t recall the late night of serving a monster of her own creation. She didn’t notice the marks on her thighs, the pain her waist and hips, or the slight smell of sweat still on her.

Weeks went by, her secret notebook dropped to the bottom of her drawers. She’d visit the restricted section and not even glance once at the small, ancient text sitting on the shelf. Years went by and she found herself sitting at home, across from Ron, and living a happy life.

One night, she wandered outside, exploring the nearby woods as she often did. It was an escape from her day to day life, no matter how much she loved it. Just a small area of peace past all of the turmoils she, Ron, and Harry lived. Off, far away from her home and anyone’s home, was a clearing that contained a small one room hut. The chimney stack was small, but actively giving off smoke indicating someone inside. As she approached the door she took out a small, beat up, notebook from her bag along with her wand. Without knocking she entered the hut, smiling, and feeling a slight tingle between her legs. Sitting there, obediently reading and possibly waiting, was an orc, already fully erect.


End file.
